T'Pol of Vulcan
by panyasan
Summary: A biographic story about the effects of the early death of T'Pol's father on her life, which will shed a new light on the episode The Seventh.
1. Whisper

**Time-line**: T'Pol is 25 years old in this chapter. In Vulcan terms she is a teen.

**Author's Note**: This chapter is a rewrite of a story I have posted a couple years ago on this site. Thanks to BnB who encouraged me to expand this story and many thanks to my beta Artisticmom2.

**Disclaimer**: _Enterprise_ and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

* * *

><p>She felt a numbness in her body, spreading from her legs through her arms and her neck.<p>

She had been sitting here for hours, in the same position, her back straight, her legs crossed, concentrating on the flame before her.

Her mother sat near her, her face closed as she had never seen before. It looked like stone, hard and cold, frozen in the moment T'Les had heard the news. From the moment her mother's world had collapsed. And T'Pol's as well.

These last days T'Pol had been engulfed by overwhelming emotions. Suppressing them had been difficult, nearly impossible. T'Pol had found herself aching for assurance that the report of her father's death was false and that her betrothed hadn't died with him, yearning that she would hear her father's voice in their house again, that T'Pol could asked him advice and that he would teach her in that loving way of his.

Her heart was full of grief, because she would never hear his voice again. Sometimes she thought she did. Then she would raise her head to listen very carefully. But it was just the whisper of the desert wind, blowing the sand into the sky.

She would never look at the stars again in his company, never share the desire to see new worlds, to discover new possibilities. Instead she would look at the stars with pain in her heart, because somewhere in that sky full of stars, her father had given his last breath.

Sitting in the long ceremony to celebrate her father's life and to bid him farewell, she looked at her mother. She felt a strong dislike for her mother. T'Pol had been betrothed since she was seven, according to good Vulcan custom. Now that her betrothed was gone, T'Les had wanted to find a new one. Mother had taken her responsibility seriously. She had hardly spoken to TPol since the news about her father's and betrothed's death, but before the ceremony mother had started the negotiations. It was only logical. The male mother had chosen was bound to Vulcan soil. Koss was the son of a member of the Senate and an architect with the desire to build up their home world, not to explore the stars.

She had met Koss's mother. She was an ambitious women, with cold eyes, who wanted her husband to be part of the government, a minister at least. What better way to let her youngest son marry the daughter of the famous minister Karik, the Vulcan hero, who died saving his people?

She knew that Koss's wife had died, without giving his parents their precious grandchild. T'Pol overheard Koss's father asking her mother if her hips weren't too small. Instead of chastising him for his foolish belief in a old Vulcan myth, T'Les had ensured him she could bear children.

Her dislike for Koss's family and Koss himself grew with the minute.

The priests were starting to sing. They stood up, her blood started to flow again. Minute after minute their voices would sing the old songs of grief. She heard the words and in her heart she repeated them over and over again. There were like oil on the wounds of her grief-stricken heart.

Slowly, they started walking towards the exit of the monastery. With force the priest opened the door and rays of sunshine illuminated the room. They stepped outside. The sunshine warmed her. She felt the dry desert wind on her face. She heard the rustle of the pollu and i'su'ke bushes nearby, the distant cry of a te-resh-kah, the silverly bird, flying in the sky. She smelled the distinct aroma of the indukah-tree. She breathed. This was her planet, her love. Like Vulcan had been the love of her father. She would do any thing to protect her planet and her people.

She walked away to their transport. Then she saw him. Firm face, gentle eyes. Her father's best friend. The father of her betrothed, her old betrothed, who had died as well.

She really appreciated him for coming in spite of his own grief.

"I grieve with thee, T'Pol", he said.

"And I with you", she said.

Then she looked Del'haiu Soval into his eyes. His grief was evident. As was his shock that her father's mission had failed so miserably.

For the first time she thought of something that would change her life forever. She would study for the next years and worked at a science post like planned. But when she reached the age of understanding, she would leave to join the ranks of the military. And when the call would come, she would postpone the wedding. She would find a way to unearth the truth. Who were the murderers of her father?

This was the moment her youth was gone. It became just a whisper of the past.


	2. A Vulcan marriage

**Author's notes:** There are a number of Vulcan terms in this chapter like _Yuk-tor fam_ (can't sleep), _Ashalik_ (darling), _T'Pol-kam_ (my little T'Pol) and _Adun_ (husband).

Many thanks to my beta Artisticmom2, and my readers and reviewers.

**Time-line:** In the first chapter T'Pol grieved her father Kirak, who had died on a mission, an event that would change the lives of T'Les and T'Pol for ever.

This chapter takes places the night before Kirak went away and Kirak and T'Les share their last moments together.

* * *

><p>It was night. T'Les was in her bedroom, her husband Kirak sleeping next to her, on the right side, as had been their habit since the beginning of their union. T'Les couldn't sleep. She stared at the ceiling without seeing it. It would have been more logical if Kirak was the one who was awake. After all, his unrest and disturbance that T'Les had sensed the entire day were the reason she couldn't sleep.<p>

Tomorrow Kirak would leave on his mission. He hadn't been on a mission in years, but the head of the Ministry of Security had asked specifically for him and his old team. T'Les knew the specifics of his mission: to find a man called Menos, a former agent, who had gone astray. Menos had been infiltrating a criminal network on the planet Agaron, in order to help the government of that planet, an ally of Vulcan.

T'Les decided that sleep wouldn't come and she should use her time more effectively. She rose from the bed, whispered a command and the bedside light went on. The soft light illuminated the room, revealing the deep red curtains hanging near the window and the two mattresses on the floor, covered by a light brown blanket with red and yellow colored embroidery.

T'Les took some cushions, arranged them, and went to the low, deep red lacquered table, positioned against the wall. Next to the _lipra_ of Kirak's third forefather and an small statue of her grandmother T'Mir were several meditation candles. She lifted a candle with its candleholder off the table, placed it before the cushions on the ground and lit it. She sat down and looked at the flame. It was time to meditate.

"_Yuk-tor fam, Ashalik?_" the deep voice of her husband broke the silence. He rose from the bed. She had a glimpse of his broad shoulders and his bare chest before he dressed himself in a robe.

He also took some cushions, laid them on the floor and knelt down on the other side of the flame. "I will join you in meditation," he said.

The flame of the candle cast shadows on his bronze-skinned face, a face of which she knew every line: the slope of his eyebrows, the way the pointy tip of his ears was shaped, the masculine jaw, and his full lips. Then there were his eyes: more expressive than any Vulcan she had known.

Kirak concentrated on the flame and so did she. She entered her white space which soon became their white space: the shared space of her husband and her. Waves of strange sensations, memories from years ago, flooded together. It was like what she saw when her memories played out before her eyes in full color, memories of her relationship with the man on the other side of the flame, the man who had been her betrothed, the man who was her husband, her mate and the father of her child.

* * *

><p>Decades ago, T'Les had met Kirak for the first time. She was seven years old, dressed in a beige robe with bell shaped, red and orange flowers embroidered. She had been nervous, but her mother had told her not to show any emotion.<p>

Kirak was nine and the eldest son of one of the clan leaders. He looked older, in his green robe with the images of silver birds, the symbol of their clan. His bangs laid on his forehead in layers instead of the more traditional haircut for boys. Mother had remarked that his clothing was too exuberant, his hair too untraditional. Kirak needed much more discipline, she had complained. T'Les just had thought he looked strange.

At the ceremony T'Les touched his fingers and she had known she was his. She was Kirak's betrothed. The priest had started to sing in a baritone voice, a long song about the Vulcan ways. She had noticed how hungry she was for the food her mother had made for the feast.

After the ceremony they promised to write letters and during the many years before the second ceremony, they exchanged a letter each month. She never saw him personally and in spite of their monthly communication T'Les hardly knew him before the second ceremony. This ceremony was the start of them living together in the house of Kirak's parents in H'tekri Provence, the same house she now called home for so many years.

Kirak had been so different, his logic so in contrast of her upbringing. In part she would never fully understand him. But as the days passed, she had noticed his body of thoughts had merit, his logic was solid. He had an open mind and valued her opinions, even when they differed from his. She became to appreciate his unique mind as she came to see the worth of his logic.

After sharing their lives together for several months, Kirak had suggested neuropressure. She had agreed; it was the traditional way of building a connection for mates. The first time he had touched her, her senses were overwhelmed. She had tasted his deep emotions, his affection, and desire for her. It had confused her.

But they belonged together, so she had put her feelings aside and learned more about neuropressure.

Then, one day during a neuropressure session he had touched her ears. His finger had cherished the pointy outline of her right ear. The gesture had been clear. The sensations she felt were primitive. For the first time she sensed pleasure and she wanted more. She wanted to feel his touch over and over again. Ashamed, she suppressed her emotions and replied to his unspoken question. "You can continue," she whispered. Kirak had indicated that he wanted to have intimate relations and, as her mate, she wouldn't refuse him.

"It must also be your wish", he had answered. "There is no logic for a man in mating if his wife isn't content as well. Mating is necessary for the reproduction of our race, so feeling a mutual affection and enjoying its expression in intimate relationships, is nothing more than logic."

His logic had been flawless and she had expressed it was her desire as well. Kirak's fingertips were drawn to her ear once more and encouraged her to enjoy his gesture. She had responded by placing her two fingers on his cheek, then following the outline of his face with her fingers. Boldly, she had continued by taking the point of his right ear between two fingers.

His response had been illogically most gratifying. Never before had she felt more female and more his wife. She could please him. From that moment on there had been only the need to touch and feel the touch, to enjoy the sensations of his attentions on her skin and to return his affection. She longed to touch his mind, to become one in mind. And then she was in his mind as he was in hers, knowing him like she never had, before their bodies joined.

Afterwards, lying on his chest, she whispered "That was most agreeable."

He touched her cheek with his two fingers. "You're agreeable," he said. "And you're mine," he added, possessiveness and tenderness in his voice.

After the year of living together, Kirak stayed several months, before returning to the military. She devoted herself once again to science. Later on, Kirak was assigned to the space vessel _Talal _and, after the old captain was transferred back to Vulcan, Kirak was promoted captain. While he traveled space and visited several planets, he still kept in contact with her. The letters he wrote were the highlights of her life. He came back to her, a couple of months before his _Pon farr_ began.

T'Les had found that their intimate relations had been a good preparation for the time of _Pon farr_. When the fever came, she was ready and joined him willingly. It was a primitive, raw, experience. _Pon farr _was like being burned together in the heat of the summer sun, bringing them together in a stronger union. The experience had touched them both in the core of their being.

She had expected that Pon farr would lead to a child. But she and Kirak had to wait. After _Pon farr_, he returned to service and continued with his career as Captain. Kirak was chosen for several classified missions. He played an important role in several military disputes they had with the Andorians, which ended with a peace treaty between Andoria and Vulcan that he had helped in creating. Kirak seemed to have a gift for bringing people together and he became responsible for forming several coalitions between other races and Vulcan, including the alliance with the Agaron.

His unique talent was recognized by one of the leaders of the Senate who invited him to join the Senate. He became a senator and later on, a minister.

At the time that Kirak was asked to return to live on Vulcan and join the Senate, she had become pregnant. It had made his decision easy to make. By day he worked in the Senate, in the evening he took care of her. Sometimes, at night he embraced her. His fingers would draw small circles on her belly. In moments like that, she could feel their bond as they both bonded to their child.

When T'Pol was born, Kirak held the little baby in his arms, eyes full of joy. "Welcome, T'Pol," he whispered. "Welcome to the world. I am your father and this is your mother."

T'Pol-_kam_. She would be their only child. Her parents had been there every day of her life: feeding and training her, seeing her take her first steps and saying her first word _Ko-mekh_ - mother. Was it only twenty-five years ago?

* * *

><p>T'Les took a cleansing breath as the last memories faded away. She became aware of the white space again and opened her eyes. She stared into the eyes of her husband, fully opened.<p>

"We have a child full of potential," he remarked, showing that he knew what had been on her mind. "A child rooted in Vulcan, with her _katra_ in the stars."

As much as she was proud of T'Pol, his words were a mystery to her. "You're not being clear, _Adun,_" she replied.

"I wish to speak with you," he answered. "Tomorrow I travel to a space station in the Dosa system, before we head out. Our goal is to find this Menos and retrieve the necessary information. But I noticed that I find it harder to concentrate on a mission than it was in my days as Captain. I have the concerns of a family. When I heard Linan, T'Pol's betrothed, and his class were on that space station in the Dosa system, following a special course, I contemplated whether to talk with him or perhaps observe him. But that would endanger the mission, so I couldn't. I must trust the reports Soval gives me about his developments. But we seemed to be right in our assessments."

"Soval has been most diligent in writing those reports," she remarked.

He didn't reply right away. Instead he searched her face. "Remember what I told you before we decided to choose Linan as T'Pol's betrothal?"

"That no man is good enough for your daughter," T'Les answered, repeating his saying from a long time ago.

Kirak raised his eyebrow in mild amusement. "While that much is true, it isn't what I am referring to." He continued "I told you about T'Pol being an intelligent, sensitive child. Strong and beautiful. She needs a husband who has a logical, open, and creative mind. A strong, intelligent man who accepts her and cares for her."

She had agreed with Kirak's line of reasoning. T'Pol was expressive and sensitive. In many ways she was much like her father, whose military life had gave him the necessary discipline. But T'Pol was female and young. She wouldn't be accepted by her own, nor would she have a life of achievements, if she let her emotions be seen on the surface. T'Les worked hard with training T'Pol so that T'Pol would have a better control of her emotions.

"And our conclusion was that Linan met those requirements," she remembered.

"Yes. It's my duty as her father to see she is well provided." He stood up and walked across the room. Out of the armoire he took out a little box. The box was made of wood. On top the lid was decorated with silvery images of birds. Kirak showed her the box.

"I want to give T'Pol this box when she has reached the age of understanding. Inside, there is medallion from your grandmother, jewelry from my mother, and several letters, written by me, addressed to her. In those letters I tell her that she has a true Vulcan _katra _like her mother and father and her forefathers, who have the same green blood that runs through her veins. I asked her to understand that our society doesn't always reflect the true teaching of Surak and that when the opportunity arises to study his true words, she should study them with all her _katra_, and power."

T'Les had heard Kirak express his concern about the ways that were promoted by some members of the Senate and the government of which he recently had become a minister. He even had talked about some of them being corrupted, a notion she had dismissed. That would have been totally illogical, as if a senator or minister would be led by emotional motives instead of logic.

Kirak returned the box to the armoire and turned to her. "_Ashelik_, this mission is important. I have been asked by the head of the Ministry of Security to lead this mission myself, based on my experience in the past. We have prepared the mission well and in every detail."

He knelt before her and continued "Yesterday I was told that Menos had requested me. I am puzzled about this, because I fail to see the logic of him asking for me. But I do know that we need to speak to Menos. He is the only one who has expressed the desire to speak about the people who have turned him away from his Vulcan ways and rely on violence instead of logic. I can't find any logical reason to abort the mission."

Kirak was silent for a minute. "But if there is, make sure you give the box to T'Pol at the right time. Let her know my affection for her. It isn't logical to deny the high risks of this mission and the chance I won't return to you and T'Pol."

He touched her cheek with his two fingers and without speaking she could sense his great affection **for her**. He was preparing himself for the unknown, while meditating on the life they had together. He was her mate in every sense of the word.

She touched the tip of his ear, a gesture she hardly had made more than two or three times since they were together. "You're my mate," she whispered. He was, in every sense of the word.

He responded and came to her. That night, their minds and bodies celebrated their union, the night before Kirak went away on a last mission, to never to return.


	3. Home

**A/N**: This chapter is from T'Pol's POV and shows the events before and after her father went on his mission to meet Menos. It follows directly after Chapter Two.

Vulcan words

Tal-kam – dear, a beloved person; term of endearment

Gad-Shi'oren – school event, literally Day of School

Sa-Mekh – father

Ko'Mekh – mother

El'ru'esta – hand embrace, crossing hands at the wrist and touch palms; used as an embrace for beloved or family

Ta'al – Hand salute

Fa'tvi-shal – small house placed before the entrance of the main house, a place for pilgrims and travelers.

Del'haiu – title of respect for elderly people

**Disclaimer**: see chapter 1

* * *

><p>The sun was rising, coloring the sky soft orange. The range of mountains at the horizon came to life. From her spot on the veranda at their house on a hill T'Pol could clearly see the mountains. Closer by, the two spear-shaped mountains in the valley were bathed in the orange-red morning light. A soft wind blew dust in the air and created a cloud of sand, obscuring the outlines of the small valley-town of Tilekheyakuli beneath her.<p>

T'Pol inhaled the spicy fresh morning air while her eyes wandered to the right. There, at the far end of the H'tekri province where they lived, was the L-Longon Mountain to be found, bordering the Sas-a-skar desert. She breathed slowly in and out, in a pattern her mother had taught her so many times, and looked to the left towards the Xial province, the next state, home of the pilgrim place Mount Seleya. It was time for her meditation.

Every morning T'Pol would be here, at her special place on the veranda of her home. And every morning she shared her moment of meditation with her father. When she walked from her bedroom to the veranda, she would already see her father at his favorite spot on the veranda, sitting on his pillow, eyes closed in concentration, rays of sunlight sending sparks over his red morning robe.

This morning T'Pol sat down as usual. She closed her eyes in search for the white space where she ordered her thoughts and found her peace. When she opened her eyes again, she was refreshed and content. It was time to leave and start breakfast.

All those mornings T'Pol and her father spent on the veranda, meditating, they never spoke. They simply enjoyed being in each other's presence. However, this morning Father opened his eyes. "T'Pol, come sit next to me," he asked her in his rich voice.

T'Pol did, surprised by this breach of tradition. Maybe he wanted to teach her about a subject that had struck him this morning, like he did during the day. T'Pol always wanted to learn more from him. She knew his lessons would protect and guide her on the path of logic.

She sat down and looked at him, silently waiting for him to speak. He turned to her and said shortly "Tal-kam, I have been ordered to leave today. I will not be back for at least a month."

His words shocked her. Every year the school held a special day, called Gad-Shi'oren. Parents were invited to attend lectures given by the head teacher and to be observers at some of the courses the school had to offer. Each student also had to prepare a project that they would present that day. T'Pol had worked hard on hers. "Gad-Shi'oren is in two weeks," she protested, deeply disappointed. "You're always present at the Day of School, Sa-Mekh."

As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth she knew her father disapproved. He didn't give her a speech about keeping her emotions in check, like mother always did, but his eyes narrowed slightly and he said "There are more important things than Gad-Shi'oren, T'Pol. I have been asked to undertake an important mission."

He paused and stared at the beautiful panorama in front of him. T'Pol thought their conversation was over and she waited patiently for her father to dismiss her. Instead his voice broke the silence "What is it to be truly Vulcan, T'Pol?" he asked.

"To follow the path of Surak, Sa-Mekh."

Her father turned to her, his eyes full of approval. "That's the most important thing. Study Surak's true teaching with all of your heart. You will find what your heart truly wants. You will find your path in life. That will make you content in every situation. But there is more."

Father paused for a moment. "Surak tells us that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. It is for the needs of those others that I must go. I have seen men act out of selfish desires, not using logic, but following their own traitorous longings. Their emotions will, in the end, destroy not only themselves, but others in their path. Even the ones for which they have affection. Never follow your own selfish desires, T'Pol. Look out for the needs of the many."

He stood up and rearranged his robe. "After breakfast, we say goodbye."

"Yes, Sa-Mekh," T'Pol answered, trying very hard to understand what Father had said.

Mother joined them at breakfast, after which father changed his clothing. T'Pol had hardly ever seen her father dressed in anything but a robe. She was surprised to see him come back dressed in a military uniform.

First he bid her mother farewell. His fingers stroke her cheek as he whispered something to Mother that T'Pol couldn't hear. T'Pol had always admired her mother's control of emotions, and was astonished that she could see traces of sadness on Ko'Mekh's face, saying goodbye to her father. Mother also moved her fingers across Father's cheek before she withdrew her hand and gave Father the ta'al.

Mother stepped aside and Father turned to her. Their hands touched in the el'ru'esta. For one moment she felt his embrace, and her mind was filled with his affection for her. She was moved beyond words.

"C-c-an I show you my science project when you come back?" she stuttered.

"That would be agreeable," Father answered in a warm voice.

T'Pol placed her fingers into the ta'al.

"Live long and prosper, Sa-Mekh."

"Live long and prosper, T'Pol, daughter of mine."

* * *

><p>The house was empty without Father. T'Pol missed his greeting when she came home from a long day of school. It was hard to be without his silent presence during morning meditation, without his company at dinner time. The house was still there, with all the comforts that it had given her during her life; her mother was there as well, but the house seemed too big for the two of them.<p>

She thought about this as she climbed the staircase after her day of school, ascending the hill on which their house was built. The house was constructed from beige brick walls and brown tap-tukh wood beams. Several gardens, including a garden with statues and other ancient art forms and two vegetable gardens, were placed around the house.

Coming to the top, the first building was the fa'tvi-shal, a small house the size of a chamber. The fa-tvi-shal was set before the courtyard and the entrance of the main house. Traditionally these chambers were places where pilgrims or travelers from the desert could rest. Mother always made sure there was fresh water, bread and a local drink available, and blankets and futons in the closet, to be used for travelers and pilgrims.

Passing through the fa'tvi-shal, one came into the circular courtyard with a round shaped fountain. When T'Pol was little she liked placing her hands in the water of the fountain and letting the water stream through her hands. It was fun to do, until her mother told her she shouldn't waste water.

From the courtyard one entered the hall way and came into the main house, decorated in beige, brown and orange colors, with beautiful artwork on the walls. Now that her father was gone on the mission and his presence was missed, she found she liked to spend most of her time in his study.

Father's study was part of the library, a lengthy room with books on both sides which ended in a broader section near the window. In late evening, on his days off, T'Pol's father used to be in his study and T'Pol in the corner, tucked away on one of the red colored pillows on the ground. When Kirak was struck by something he read he would call T'Pol, and his rich, gentle voice would read to her from the poems of H'Len, Toka and other famous Vulcan writers. He would also tell her stories about Vulcan's past. Once he had taken out one of the books and given it to her. It was an ancient book, called The Teachings of Surak. "We all need the wisdom of Surak," he had said, and they had studied the book together.

In the past Father had been a captain of a spaceship in the military. Mother once told her that being a captain meant you were the leader of a small community living in space, depending on your skills to survive in a hostile environment. Father liked to tell stories from his time as captain. Sometimes, at night, Father would take her to the second level of the house. There was only one room there, built as an observatory. They would look at the stars and Father would tell her about the planets he had visited. Father used to say that Vulcan needed other planets for the good of Vulcan. That's why he worked so hard on building coalitions with the aliens. Forming coalitions would make Vulcan stronger and would prevent war.

T'Pol knew from the comments of her classmates that Father's view wasn't commonly shared. There had been many wars between aliens and Vulcans in the past. Father had fought in many of them, and while he hardly mentioned it, he had been decorated for his part. Yet he was building coalitions with the aliens now.

For T'Pol, her father had been the best captain of Vulcan, and while she didn't understand all of his visions, she knew that given his experiences with war and as a captain his logic was the best.

And she missed him. She went to school, she did her studies, she practiced the art of neuropressure with her mother and she meditated more than ever. But never did she feel content as before, and she had a hard time finding clarity in her white space.

T'Pol knew her mother missed Father too. Mother had doubled her own amount of time in meditation. Ko-mekh's face would be as serene as always, but there was something in her voice, a slight breeze of emotion that made T'Pol very uncomfortable. That's why T'Pol feared to burden her mother with her own problems and didn't ask for her help. Neuropressure did help her to some extent to fall asleep more easily, but there would be nights when she stared at the brown ceiling above her for hours, unable to sleep.

One night, she dreamt. She was looking at the ceiling, when suddenly the color of the upper surface changed into a white tint. White clouds surrounded her. They became gray and her world became dark. Then she heard a loud sound, followed by sparks of light. She was surrounded by an inferno of red-yellow flames. She saw her father on the bridge of his ship. He wore the same uniform as on that day as he had left. It was smudged and torn. Another blast made the ship tremble like a Henete-tree in a fire storm. Another blaze and the bridge was all fire. She heard her father say "To the shuttle pods!", but before her eyes T'Pol saw the ship explode into a thousand pieces.

There was darkness. There was nothing. Then she saw her father standing. He was held by two men who looked Vulcan, but were not. There was a knife. Another man walked to her father with a knife. He took the tip of her father's right ear and cut it off. Green blood flooded down her father's cheek, down to his neck. He cried out in agony. Then the screaming stopped. Father looked at her, standing there, frozen to the ground, unable to move. His eyes were as firm as ever. His voice was warm and loving. "T'Pol," he said.

She screamed and woke up in her own bedroom, her cheeks wet with tears.

Shame flushed over her. Quickly, she wiped away her tears. What did mother always say? Control your emotions. She breathed in and out, slowly. She was in control. Nothing was wrong. Her father was alive and would return.

* * *

><p>Three days after the dream, when she finally had managed to put it completely behind her, she was walking around on the veranda after her morning meditation. When she came to the side overlooking the stairs she saw someone climbing up the hill. The figure became clearer with every passing step. It was Del'haiu Soval. Her future father-in-law was the last person she expected to come to the house.<p>

Forgetting all Mother's lessons about how a young lady should never run and always be in control, she fled toward the courtyard and waited for him. In her experience Soval was a strong quiet man. Now she was struck by the tired look in his amber eyes. His expression was stern as always, but his whole demeanor was one of sadness. He was wearing a dark green robe. The embroidery on his robe was arranged in a pattern that T'Pol had seen when her fore-father had died. It was the sign of someone grieving over the death of a close family member.

"Linan?" she whispered the name of her betrothed.

"Let us go inside, daughter," Soval said.

Mother joined them in the living room, and Soval told them the simple story. Linan and his class had been on a field trip on a space station in the Dosa system. An unknown number of alien ships had attacked the station. Fifteen students had been critically injured. Ten students, including Linan, were dead on impact.

T'Pol sat down on one of the low chairs. Her eyes didn't see anything, her ears didn't hear. Linan was dead. Her betrothed was gone. It couldn't be. This had to be a mistake. It wasn't logical. Only four weeks ago she had received his monthly letter. His letters were filled with inquisitive observations and full of interest for her life. His writing always made her feel content. She had thought that marrying Linan would be most agreeable. Her parents had shown true logic in choosing him. And she'd thought that he would be there forever, now in her days of learning, later as her husband. He couldn't be dead. He was supposed to grow up and marry her.

In the fog she felt her mother's touch on her arm. A feeling of sympathy and love washed over her. Her mother was there, trying to comfort her. T'Pol looked up and stared into her face. Mother nodded ever so slightly in the direction of Soval. T'Pol understood. She stood up and walked towards Soval. "I grieve with thee Del'haiu Soval" she told him.

Lost for words, she was silent for a moment, but then she found them. "It was a logical choice from you, your wife and my parents to make Linan my betrothed. He would have been a good husband for me. "

Her mother took the lead. "Soval, my family grieves with yours. If we can be of any support to you and your family in this time of grief, please say so," she told him.

Soval responded in kind. He accepted her condolences and explained to her and her mother the details of the memorial service.

"Please join us in meditation," mother suggested, offering Soval support in a more personal way. "But first you must have something to drink and to eat. It has been a long journey," she continued. "T'Pol, go to the kitchen and make Del'haiu Soval some tea, prepare a meal, and bring them to the dining room."

T'Pol did as she was told. In the kitchen she tried hard to control her sadness and confusion and concentrated on her task. She opened the kitchen cabinet and saw the different kinds of tea: nes-kur, pla-savas, mu'yar'kur. She thought Soval liked the last kind, but she wasn't sure. The best way was to ask Soval himself. T'Pol walked back to the living room and, standing in front of the door, she heard her mother's voice. She sounded disturbed.

"When are you going to tell me that Kirak's ship was attacked as well?" Mother asked Soval.

The mentioned of her father's name got T'Pol's attention. She stopped and listened.

"Your presence would suggest so," Mother continued. "A father who lost his son would be grieving with his wife and trying to support his children. Only after days of being with his family would he visit the child's betrothed. You came straight to us."

Soval's voice was calm. "I didn't want to tell you in front of the child, but you are correct. Kirak's vessel has been attacked. Our teams are now investigating the attack. Rumors are that they have found only debris from the ship. They also found a shuttle pod from the ship with one person present. It was Menos."

"That's the person Kirak had to meet!" Mother's voice became louder. "How did he end up in a shuttle pod from Kirak's ship? Did he say where Kirak is? Did he say anything about the attackers?"

"None of this is known," Soval answered. He paused. "Senator V'Las has made a statement that the attack was made by Andorians."

"The war between Andoria and Vulcan has led to many wounds," mother answered. "But we made peace with them. The Andorians know Kirak was the driving force behind several peace treaties. They are a warlike people, but they wouldn't be so foolish as to attack him."

"I don't know, T'Les," Soval answered. "The attacks could be the work of the Andorians. But I must point out to you that the attack on the star base could have been a diversion. This last year, Kirak's views have met with hostility. He has made a number of enemies, mostly among our own people."

"This can't be the work of Vulcans who opposed him," mother answered. "You said so, it was unknown aliens who led the attack on the space station. Vulcans fight with logic and words, not with violence." T'Pol heard her mother taking a deep breath. "But whatever happened, I must protect T'Pol. You understand that it is only logical for me to arrange a new betrothal as soon as possible."

"This is not the time for rash decisions, T'Les," Soval warned Mother.

"T'Pol is my child, my daughter. I must keep her safe and act logically for her sake," Mother answered. Her voice was firm.

T'Pol stood still on the other side of the door, overwhelmed by what she just heard. She shouldn't have listened. This wasn't intended for her ears. She turned away, went back to the kitchen, and prepared the tea and the meal.

T'Pol softly started to breathe in the meditation breathing pattern. She suppressed her feeling of unrest and pushed the thought of an attack on her father's ship to the back of her mind. She had to go back to the living room with mother and Soval. She would present the tea and the meal, eat with them and join them in meditation, like nothing had happened.

Because it wasn't true. Soval and mother were wrong. Father always had been a great captain; he had been attacked before and escaped. This time he also would have found a way, like that Menos had. Father would come home.

* * *

><p>After the meal and the meditation, T'Pol went to bed. After a couple of hours of trying to fall sleep, she finally did. The next morning, when she opened her eyes, she saw her mother standing over her. "T'Pol," mother whispered. Her voice was soft and gentle and her eyes were fixed on her, looking at her intently. "You have to get up and prepare a breakfast for Del'haiu Soval with me," mother said. "First we are going to pick some fresh vegetables for plomeek soup ."<p>

T'Pol followed her mother to one of the vegetable gardens. She inhaled the fresh morning air. It was so good to be here, in this peaceful hour, alone with her mother.

After they had collected some plomeek, they walked back to the kitchen. T'Pol was busy scrubbing the vegetables with a small kitchen brush while her mother prepared morning tea when they heard the chime at the front door. Mother stopped with her work and so did she. Together they went to the front door.

Mother opened the door. T'Pol saw two men. One man was short and dressed in the same kind of uniform as father had been wearing. The other was older and taller and dressed in the light-blue uniform of the Ha'pla-kur regiment. People called them the Bluebirds, messengers of bad news. The short man introduced himself as V'Tok, the other as Kimek.

Mother gave them permission to enter the house. She gripped T'Pol's upper arm as she stepped back to make space. The touch of her mother's hand on her arm caused a cascade of emotions to roll over T'Pol: fear, despair, loneliness and an overwhelming need to protect her, Mother's child. Then Mother broke off the contact and showed the men to the living room.

V'Tok told them why they had come. Father's ship had been attacked. Another ship had been in close range of Father's ship, unable to help them, but had reported the attack. The surveillance recording of that ship showed the attack. Kimek had a copy of that recording and showed it to them. T'Pol saw a ship in a storm of fire. Explosions were everywhere. Blast by blast the ship was torn apart, until a final stroke blew the ship in a thousand pieces. The images burned in her mind. It was her dream, now a recording of a real event.

T'Pol turned to her mother. She wanted to say something. But the words froze on her lips. Her mother stood there, unable to move.

"Were they any survivors?" T'Pol asked. Her father would have found a way to elude his enemies.

"No," Kimek answered. "We only found the remains of a couple of people. The coroner has identified them as members of your father's crew."

"Not one man was found alive?" Mother's voice, raw, hoarse, suddenly sounded.

Kimek moved slightly in discomfort and for a second V'Tok glanced down in shame. "We found one person in the vicinity of the debris. A man called Menos. We brought him in for questioning," V'Tok told them.

"And what did he have to say?" Mother demanded to know.

"We have no idea how this could happen. We grieve with thee and your family, Lady T'Les," V'Tok answered. "Captain Kirak, Senator Kirak was a great man. But no man could survive that kind of attack."

"But this Menos did. Where is he now? What did he tell you?" Mother asked again.

Kimek took over. "We don't know, Lady T'Les. Menos must have had help from outside. He escaped and disappeared. We searched everywhere, but he is nowhere to be found. "

"He escaped?" Anger dripped from Mother's voice. For the first time in her life, T'Pol noticed that Mother had a hard time controlling her emotions.

"We believe that Menos wasn't on the ship, so he probably wouldn't be able to tell much, Lady T'Les," Kimek answered. "We deeply regret that Menos was able to get away. This is such a sorrowful event, with all the lives lost and Senator Kirak dead."

T'Pol felt her mother freeze next to her at hearing those words. T'Pol turned to her, but Mother didn't look at her. The lines of Mother's face hardened, her expression became as cold as stone. It was like a cold wind of distance came between them. A wave of despair and pain crashed over T'Pol. Her life had fallen apart. The ground beneath her feet was gone. T'Pol could hardly breathe.

She needed her mother, but T'Pol couldn't reach her. Mother couldn't offer her support. T'Pol was all alone. Her house, her home she had shared with her father and mother had become empty and cold.

Because her father was gone. He would never return home.


End file.
